Megin, Meg, Thor's Magic Belt
by ninepen
Summary: Happy stared at the screen. Tony was going to fire him. But Thor? Thor was going to kill him. A ridiculous story told purely for humor, featuring Happy, Tony, Thor, Jane, and Thor's unpronounceable magic belt Megingjörð...with a dash of Loki tossed in for flavoring. Inspired by "Spiderman: Homecoming."
1. Happy, Part I-II

**_Megin…Meg…Thor's Magic Belt_**

 ** _Chapter 1_**

 **Happy, Part I**

Happy stared down at the smoldering remains of the jet. That tech weenie had _just said_ it was on course. What he was looking at? Not on course. Not even slightly. Tony was going to kill him.

"Tony's going to kill me," he muttered to his reflection in the window.

Tony wasn't going to kill him. Tony wasn't that kind of guy, and Tony and he went way back.

But he was definitely going to fire him.

He took a deep, steadying breath. Squared his jaw. Happy Hogan did not turn tail and run. He had a job to do. At least until Tony fired him. He also had a spark of hope, a _perfectly rational_ one, that maybe the engines had just fallen off and caught fire, and maybe knocked over some trash cans and caught the contents on fire, and whatever other debris might be on the coastline out there, maybe it caught that on fire, too, and all of this happened a good half-mile away from where the rest of the plane landed, intact and completely room-temperature. The jet was sturdy, after all. Dependable. Reliable. Flame-resistant…surely.

* * *

 **Happy, Part II**

"That's the last of it."

Happy looked up from his StarkPad. "No. What about those boxes?" he shouted, pointing.

"Already checked 'em."

Happy glowered at the guy in his white containment suit and a StarkPad clipped to a loop at his hip. "Well what about _those_?" he called, pointing even further away.

"Already checked 'em," the guy said again, slower, like he was talking to a moron.

Happy rolled his eyes. Lab nerds in their containment suits, as if there was anything dangerous about any of the surviving contents of the utterly disintegrated jet that had been hauled into this vacant Damage Control warehouse. Everything in here was made by Stark Industries. Sure, some of it was retconned from Chitauri weapons, but it had been thoroughly studied, then produced in a sterile and thoroughly secured environment. Kids today. You lock up parents for letting their kids walk to the park alone, next thing you know those kids insist on _containment suits_ to look at Stark Industries' finest creations just because they had a little smoke damage. "You can't have catalogued _all_ of it, there's a ton of things still missing."

"Yeah. Because a ton of things got burned up or exploded. You want to leave the wall and come over here and go through it all yourself?"

Happy stood up straighter and puffed out his chest…and stayed where he was. There were fumes. He had allergies. "Fine. I'll get somebody else in to give everything a second eye."

"What's that? I can't hear from waaay over there!" the guy in the white suit called.

"Get out of here, you little-"

"What?"

"Out!" Entitled millennials. No respect for authority whatsoever. "Oh, really? I see what you're going for there, but news flash, you have giant gloves on."

The guy made a tighter fist, middle finger extended more clearly.

Happy rolled his eyes and started scrolling through the list of items unaccounted for. They'd lost a lot, but with the exception of the adapted Chitauri weaponry, some of which they'd actually been able to recover, it could all be replaced. Though it would cost enough to make a dent in even Stark Industries' very deep pockets, it wasn't quite as severe of a setback as he'd thought when he reached the crash site at Coney Island and found out it wasn't garbage heaps that were burning. The prototype for Cap's new shield was probably the worst of it. It was in one of the crates here in the warehouse, but now a distorted molten mess, just enough of the shape retained to be able to identify it. He knew how he'd tell Tony about that one, though. _On the plus side, Boss, we can send it back to the lab and tell them they still don't have the Vibranium alloy formula quite right._

He kept scrolling, stopped, blinked, scrolled back up, stared. Swore.

 _That_ was not replaceable. At least not on Earth.

Yep, Tony was going to fire him.

But Thor? Thor might just kill him.

* * *

 _Notes_

 _Folks, don't squint too hard at this one. It really is just for fun. I hope you enjoy and get some good laughs! I'm writing the last page or two of this now, should finish it today. It's not broken into chapters yet but should be in the range of 5 or 6. Come on, you cannot throw in a random mention of "Megin...Meg...Thor's magic belt" into a Marvel movie that's not even about Thor and expect me to do nothing about it! I started writing this right after seeing_ Spiderman: Homecoming _, then, you know, things got busy and I missed striking while the iron was hot. Hopefully better late than never._

 _Where this fits in canon: This story is meant to be canon through_ Spiderman: Homecoming _. That includes, then,_ Captain America: Civil War _,_ Avengers: Age of Ultron _, and_ Thor: The Dark World _. It was (mostly) written before_ Thor: Rangnarok _and thus is not canon-compliant with that film, as will be pretty obvious. It takes place right after the events of_ Spiderman: Homecoming _. It's not connected to any of my other stories, other than in the vague sense that it's more or less my same basic understanding of the characters (with a humorous twist)._


	2. Happy, Part III

_**Megin...Meg...Thor's Magic Belt**_

 _ **Chapter 2**_

 **Happy, Part III**

"Happy, will you stop already? I told you I'm not firing you. I _might_ consider docking your pay but I'd have to dock it by 5,000 percent or so to cover the losses, so I don't really see the point. Coulda been worse. Thanks to the kid, none of that stuff fell into the wrong hands. That's a road I don't ever want to go down again. I can live with the destruction of some weapons and a small but valuable art collection; ask Pepper. I can build more weapons – pretty good at that actually – and I can buy new art. Or, let's be honest, Pepper can. Why exactly did my art collection not make it out with the rest of my personal belongings on the earlier flight?"

"Tony-"

"Yeah, okay, maybe I'm a teensy bit more upset about that than I thought. People do change, you know."

"Okay, so there's just one more thing."

"What's that?"

Happy had decided on how he was going to tell Tony about that, too. Only now he couldn't remember.

"Happy?" Tony finally looked up from the Iron Man gauntlet he'd been tinkering with. "What's that?"

Tony had already received a preliminary report – downed plane, lots of stuff destroyed, nothing looted – before Happy got to him at his workspace in upstate New York. Happy was there to deliver the details. "Well…it's…it's…actually I can't say it."

"I swear to you I'm not firing you. Just say it."

"No, I mean I can't say it."

"What, is it like Voldemort? It-which-must-not-be-named? Give me a break, Happy, I think this conversation was over about ten minutes ago. Just run it all through Pepper and send me the abridged version."

" _No_ , I mean I _literally_ can't say it. It's Megin…Meg… Here, look." Happy scrolled to the right place on the StarkPad with the list of lost inventory, then held it out for Tony to see. "What in God's name is that letter anyway? Not that one, the two dots, I know that's like German. But that thing at the end, what is that, Russian? I thought these guys were from _Norse_ mythology. That's not the same thing as Russian, is it? Maybe there's some overlap in-"

"Happy."

"Sorry, Boss."

"Meging…Megingjoerth."

"Is that it?" Happy asked, peering down at the word on the screen: _Megingjörð_.

"Think so."

"I couldn't remember exactly what Thor called it, so I looked it up online. Found it on Wikipedia. You've been holding out on me, Boss. Didn't know you knew Russian."

"Pretty sure it's not Russian. You can run it past Natasha if it's that important to you. Anyway, must've been something Pepper bought. I've never heard of the guy. Or gal. Wait. Oh, no. Is this some favorite of hers? Because if it is I'm pretty sure she's going to blame me, not you. Not a good time to be back on thin ice with her."

"Megin…Meginjor…it's not an artist."

"It's not?"

Happy shook his head.

"Ooookay. Do I have to start counting down from five? How about I start with _one_?"

"It's Thor's magic belt."

"Thor's _what_?"

"Remember, he told us about it at that party, the one where he and Vision started off comparing capes?"

"Gotta admit, that one's kind of a blur. I think there was a drinking game."

"Don't go there, Boss. But yeah. And after his stuff was cleared out the cleaners found a belt in one of his bathroom cabinets for whatever reason, and I recognized it as Meg…you know. The magic belt. But he was already on vacation then, and I didn't want to bother him…and he left Mjolnir behind, too, so-"

"Oh, God, don't tell me Mjolnir was on the plane."

"Who was supposed to lift it to put it on the plane? No, he flew upstate with it and left it there."

"Okay. Whew. So…the magic belt was destroyed?"

Happy nodded, a pained look on his face.

"Hm. Magic belt. You think those are…custom-made, or maybe off the rack?"

"I don't know, Boss," Happy said, shaking his head. "I'm guessing it's like the hammer. One-of-a-kind."

"Uh-oh."

"Exactly. Bad news. But I came prepared." Happy opened up a different tab on the StarkPad and held it back out.

"What's that?" Tony asked, physically recoiling. "You know I don't like to be handed things."

"I'm not- I'm just showing it to you. You can use your own phone."

"For what, pray tell?"

"For calling Thor. This is the number of the resort." At eight destroyed StarkPhones, Tony and Thor had mutually agreed that they would find another way to get in touch if they needed to. Happy had already confirmed that Thor hadn't taken Number Nine with him to Fiji.

"The resort Thor's staying at?"

Happy nodded.

"So you're thinking I should call him?"

"Right."

Tony started laughing. "Wrong. My phone is on the desk, and I don't feel like going over there to get it, and I _really_ don't like being handed things. Especially things that involve calling Thor and telling him that there's nothing left of his one-of-a-kind magic belt that's so important to him he gave it a _name,_ except for maybe a few flakes of ash. Wasn't I going to promote you? New job, better hours? You're promoted. Pretty sure the new job description includes that phone call."

"Tony…are you being serious? Because I can usually tell, but some-"

"Go ahead and make it here. Oh, and put it on speaker. Go on, I'm waiting. Chop chop."


	3. Happy, Part IV

_**Megin...Meg...Thor's Magic Hammer**_

 _ **Chapter 3**_

 **Happy, Part IV**

He tried to get out of it. Without making it too obvious. But he knew he wasn't fooling anyone; it was actually pretty obvious. But it really _did_ make more sense for Tony to make the call, or Vision, or Natasha…all of them had spent more time with Thor than Happy had. Happy liked being part of the Avengers circle, without making it too obvious of course, but he'd really remained more a part of _Tony's_ circle than anything else, usually on the periphery of Avengers business. Or outside it entirely. At the moment he was perfectly fine with that, but Tony wasn't listening. Literally. He had started bastardizing the words to a classic Stevie Wonder song. _"I just called to say your belt's gone, I just called to say it burned to ash…"_

Tony kept going, heartfelt expression, hand over his heart – despite the looks Happy was shooting him – right up until a click interrupted the phone's ringing. A woman answered, then connected him through to Theo Odinson's room. Thor occasionally liked to keep a low profile, but wasn't a fan of lying in order to do so. It was one of the few conversations they'd had, just the two of them, security being Happy's domain and not something Thor was used to needing to be concerned about. Thor was also really stubborn.

"Hello?" a muffled voice answered.

"Uh…Jane? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Um…sorry, who's this?"

"It's Happy. Happy Hogan. I work for Tony Stark. We've met at a couple of parties. How's the vacation going?"

"It's, uh, it's going fine. What's up? Oh, no, is there some kind of attack? Do you need Thor?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I just…well, I do need to talk to Thor. Is he there?"

"Yeah, just…just a minute. Thor? Thor, wake up, you have a phone call," Jane said, the voice growing more distant.

"You didn't check the time difference?" Tony asked.

"You _told_ me to call now. You didn't-" A yelp coming through the phone cut Happy off.

"Was I snoring?"

"You have a call. Some guy who works for Tony."

Happy ground his teeth, a habit his dentist was trying to break him of.

"This is Thor Odin- I mean Theo Odinson."

Tony was shaking his head; Happy forged on. Happy Hogan did not shy away from his responsibilities, not even ones he'd tried hard to get out of. "And I regret to inform you," he concluded after hitting the highlights of the story of the downed jet, "that your magic belt was among the items onboard the aircraft, and was completely destroyed."

There was a pause. "I think I must have misunderstood. My what was on the aircraft?" Happy heard whispered words he couldn't make out, followed by "I don't know" in what must be Thor's version of a whisper.

"Your magic belt. You know, Meg…" Happy caught Tony's jiggling finger and followed it up to his face, where he was quietly enunciating the word in exaggerated fashion for Happy to follow along. "Megingyyyyyyoooouuuurthuh."

There was a longer pause. "Meginjord?"

"Is that how you say it? I just got it off of Wikipedia, but anybody can put anything they want on there, so I guess it's a mistake. Or an edit war. Don't get me started on the 'corn' article on Wikipedia, which is _mistakenly_ titled 'maize.' The Talk section will-"

"Corn? Really?"

Happy blinked at the finger that had just pressed the mute button on the StarkPad, then looked up at Tony.

"You're avoiding the subject and confusing Thor, who I'm pretty sure has never heard of Wikipedia or edit wars. Speaking of which, is _that_ what you do in your free time?"

He sighed; Tony pressed the mute button again.

"-believe you're mistaken."

"What?" Happy asked, quickly running over what he'd just said. "Why, what do you call it on Asgard?"

"We call it Meginjord, those who know its name."

"Oh, the belt, right, of course."

"I learned it from my father, when he bestowed it upon me a few decades after receiving Mjolnir. That is what we call my hammer."

"Uh-huh. I see."

"But you're mistaken about it being destroyed."

"I'm sorry, Thor. I'm know you said it's extra-strong, but that fire burned really hot. It melted a couple of things we didn't think it was possible to melt. We spent all night gathering up and cataloguing everything that survived…and there was no trace of Megin…"

"Meginjord."

"Meginjord."

"Of course there wasn't. The belt is here."

"Uhhhh…oh. Right. Well, actually, I didn't want to bother you with this, seeing as you were off having your first real vacation and all…but the cleaners found your belt here. So I had it packed up with the other things we were taking up to the new facility, and since it was sensitive it went on the last flight, with all the weapons-related tech."

 _"And my art collection,"_ Tony mouthed.

 _"Only part of it,"_ Happy mouthed back.

"Just a moment. Jane is checking the wardrobe."

Happy waited.

"Thank you, my sweet. Yes…ah…what did you say your name was?"

"Happy. It's Happy. We've met. I'm the one who talked to you about using a pseudonym."

"Ah, the false name! Yes, I thank you. 'Theo' has worked well. No one has recognized me. What?"

Happy wasn't certain how to respond to the indignant tone in Thor's question, but quickly realized it wasn't directed at him.

"If they didn't figure it out from the name and your face and your…the rest of you, I'm pretty sure they figured it out when you single-handedly moved that palm tree that had fallen over into the road. This place is just so exclusive that they know not to make a big deal out of it, and to call you whatever name we give them."

"They don't know me as you do. I don't believe they have recognized me."

"Uh-huh. I want to go back to sleep. Give me the phone."

Happy and Tony exchanged a look. So Thor got bossed around by Jane Foster, who was at least an entire foot shorter than him.

"I'm looking at the belt right now. We both are. It's definitely Meginjord. Thor's nodding."

"Hm. So…does that mean he has more than one?"

"No," Thor answered, having apparently taken the phone back. "There is only one such belt, only one Meginjord, in all the cosmos. I occasionally wear some other belt while I'm on Midgard; you must have found one of those."

"Oh. Okay! Well, that's good news. I'm" – Happy paused to let out a nervous laugh – "I'm relieved. I actually thought you might be upset."

"Do not be troubled, my friend," Thor said over that warm laughter of his, that laughter that made you think you'd become good pals when he couldn't even remember your name. "All is well. You have lost nothing of mine, nothing of any importance."

"So that's settled then," Jane said. "And Happy, try to remember that whatever you see on Wikipedia about Thor is probably about the mythological Thor, not the _actual_ Thor, okay? Thor – _this_ Thor – doesn't go around randomly killing dwarves, and his brother didn't give birth to a horse. Got it?"

"Sure, Jane, got it. I knew that." He hoped since Jane had raised it, maybe he could ask questions the next time he ran into one or both of them. He'd _really_ wondered about that horse thing, but it was hard to find the right time to ask somebody if he had a horse for a nephew, and he'd never had the misfortune of meeting Loki, but if he had, there was no way on God's green earth he was going to bring up birthing horses or any of the other offspring Wikipedia said he'd produced in various forms. He made his apologies for the disturbance and hung up.

"Wrong belt?" Tony said.

"Wrong belt," Happy confirmed in subdued celebration.

"Why did he have a belt in a bathroom cabinet, anyway?"

"Beats me, Boss. Thor doesn't always do things…quite the way you'd expect."

Tony nodded. "True. You should have seen how fascinated he was by the toaster."

"You mean after you told him that he had to make the bread pop up by controlling it with his thoughts? I heard about that one."

"Yeah," Tony answered with a grin. "And I kept changing the settings so it would pop up faster and he thought he was getting better at it. Ah, how I miss those early days. But hey, crisis averted. One regular run-of-the-mill belt burnt to a crisp, not a one-of-a-kind precious magic family heirloom. I'll make sure he gets a gift certificate to a nice men's clothing store. Better yet, you can make sure he gets a gift certificate."

"I'll take care of it."

"No rush. He's not back for another…two weeks or so I think. There's someone I think you need to express our appreciation for, first."

Happy's smile spread. He'd been rough on the kid – they both had – but Peter had really saved his skin. And Tony might not get all gushy about it, but Happy knew it would crush Tony to see weapons he'd had a hand in again wind up in the hands of the bad guys. The kid had saved _both_ of their skins. "Any specifics on how you want to go about that?"

"Yeah, actually. He should still be in school now, yeah? Why don't you go pick him up, bring him up here... I know just the thing. Who doesn't love a good press conference, hm?"

"Sure thing, Boss. On it." Happy didn't do too many apologies to fifteen-year-old kids. Or to anybody, really. But today had turned out to be a good day. A great one, in fact, after the disaster of last night. Tony wasn't going to fire him, and Thor wasn't going to kill him. Peter was an okay kid, when he wasn't being an annoying little brat. He deserved it.

* * *

 _Notes_

 _This story is not all from Happy's POV. The next chapter is Thor, Part I._


	4. Thor, Part I

**_Megin...Meg...Thor's Magic Belt_**

 ** _Chapter 4_**

 _Four days later…_

 **Thor, Part I**

"I'm so sorry."

Thor jerked away from Jane as though caught in the act of love, then carefully positioned himself to stand in front of her. The resort employee who'd come through the side entrance of their cottage to the patio with their private pool – not much larger than his bath on Asgard but Jane adored it so Thor did, too – was a woman herself, but it was instinct. Jane wore nothing more than a few little triangles of blue-and-white-striped material. It drove him to utter distraction, in part because he still wasn't accustomed to seeing such things worn openly, and he _hated_ the idea of anyone _else_ being driven to distraction by seeing Jane in particular in such things.

"It's all right, Tarita. What is it?"

"You have a phone call from the United States. I tried to transfer the call to your room, but you must not have heard it," she said, stepping forward and handing him a cell phone.

"We've been listening to music," Thor explained as Jane stepped over to the patio table and the little device that played music. The song "You and Me" by a group called Lifehouse stopped playing, which was a shame – he'd decided he liked it. It couldn't top "Lady" by Kenny Rogers, though; that one had moved him nearly to tears. His other favorite so far was Shakira's "Whenever, Wherever." He'd been embarrassed to admit it at first, since on Asgard only bad bawdy tavern songs spoke plainly of women's breasts – the good ones spoke of breasts and everything else but in cleverly disguised kennings that the young figured out when the others grew very drunk and began to mime the lyrics. He looked down at Jane, emerging from behind him, far less concerned than he about others seeing her in her tiny swim attire. She looked _exceptionally_ beautiful dancing to "Whenever, Wherever," he thought with a smile, topped only by Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie." "Jane has been teaching me how to dance. I _know_ how to dance, actually, but we…do it differently, where I come from."

Tarita with her friendly smile stared a little longer than Thor thought was quite normal, but Jane had explained that this was a distant country with its own culture, and to expect some differences in local customs. "Perhaps you can show us some of your dances. If you dine in the restaurant tomorrow night, the theme is 'Dancing Beneath the Stars.'"

"That sounds nice, we should do that," Jane said, wrapping an arm around Thor's.

"We'd love to see you there, but if you'd like room service again just call. Your caller's on hold. You can return the phone to reception or call and we'll send someone for it."

"Thank you, Tarita," Thor said with a nod as the young woman turned to go. He looked at the phone. _On hold…_

"Here," Jane said, holding out her hand.

Thor gave it to her with a sigh of relief.

"She totally knows who you are."

"I took care not to mention Asgard."

"She _already_ knew who you are."

"Hello?" he said into the phone when Jane handed it back. They would have to continue this argument later. "This is Thor." The only people who knew him as "Theo" were the people at the resort, so whoever was calling was calling for Thor.

"Guess whose little brother is up to no good again," the caller said without preamble. Thor recognized the voice as Tony's even through the imperfect sound transmission.

Thor's shoulders sank. "Would that it were someone else's. What has he done now?"

"Unclear. As in, we can't see enough to be certain. He showed up at Times Square. He strolled around for a solid five minutes in one of his leather and gold ensembles, before anybody got up the nerve to say anything to him. Or, you know, to not run away. The beat cops kept an eye on him but didn't approach, they know they don't stand a chance against him, and he wasn't causing any obvious trouble, so the Avengers weren't alerted right away. He checked out the marquees, picked up some brochures for Broadway plays after the ticket seller ran for her life, bought a hot dog from a guy who just stared at him like he was in shock or something, probably was. We've got it all on the camera feeds."

"He's not even pranking anyone?" Thor asked; he'd learned the term from Tony. _"_ It's Tony," he whispered to Jane. "Loki's in New York again but he's not causing any trouble. It doesn't sound like they need me."

"Not so fast. I said he _wasn't_ causing any trouble, past tense. After about five minutes of wandering around like a tourist, somebody finally had the balls to say something to him. And yes, Thor, that's the figurative usage, because it was actually a cute blond, brand new reporter for WPMI, the local Pensacola NBC affiliate, straight out of the US Navy on her first assignment on the road. Used to make hokey commercials for AFN on how you shouldn't write checks for more money than you have in your bank account, next thing you know she's asking Mr. Free-From-Freedom himself for an interview. And get this."

"I…get what?"

"Ahhh, I lost you, didn't I? Do you know what AFN is?"

"No."

"Armed Forces Network. But not everybody knows that one. Do you know what _checks_ are?"

"I think…no."

"Most of the economy has switched to electronic transfers now, but still, I can't give you a pass on that one. Tell Jane she's still got a lot of work to do."

"What did Loki do to the reporter?"

"Nothing. He said yes."

Thor's eyebrows went up. "Jane," he whispered, "go inside and turn on the television. Loki is giving an interview on it."

"No, no, not so fast. He said yes, but he hasn't done it yet. He had _conditions_ , you see. He told her he would answer her questions, but only after she'd gathered at least a hundred other reporters. He specifically told her he wanted lots of cameras."

"I don't understand. Loki-"

"Shocker."

"-has always been a private person. When we went out to taverns, I was always the one regaling everyone with our tales, while Loki usually joined in only reluctantly. And he disliked giving public statements to our scribes. And given that…some _concern_ was expressed after I spoke to your reporters-"

"Uh, yeah. See, I don't actually need to go see you downing brewskies and hamming it up at the local space tavern, because I can _one hundred percent_ picture it after watching you with the press here."

"You don't have to remind me," Thor said, the words coming out cross. "I've stayed away from them since then. My point is that Loki must have something in mind for this interview that you would consider far worse."

"Well, if all he wants to do is tell really graphic war stories, they'll just be ready with the bleep button to keep it safe for the little ears. We think every television station's going to carry it on a five-second delay. But the thing is, we-"

"Tony, wait. Jane is signaling me." Thor headed over to the sliding glass doors.

"It's on France 24. My French doesn't go much past _merci beaucoup_ , but the scroll says that's Times Square…and I'm pretty sure that's Loki's doing."

"What?" Thor asked. It looked like something was wrong with the cameras. The image the television was showing was gray, like smoke so thick you couldn't see through it. Something Tony had said earlier tickled at the back of his mind, then threw itself straight to the front. "You said you couldn't see what was going on. He's done something to the cameras?"

"Bingo. But not the cameras. We've got people on the ground, we've got _me_ in the air now, and we can't see a thing. People are _there_ , I can see thermal signatures, but it's like some kind of really dense fog that's just settled in right over Times Square. It appeared suddenly, and pretty much right after about a hundred reporters had shown up. It's all the way to the ground and couple hundred feet up, and for a few blocks beyond in every direction. Also…wouldn't want to be caught in Midtown traffic right now."

"Loki has indeed done this. It's a talent of his, creating a veiling smoke. He once saved our lives with it."

"Aw, that's nice. Another one of those 'when my baby brother was a good boy' stories."

Thor ignored the sarcasm. It had once angered him, but then he and Tony had talked about it and worked it out. Thor explained that he sometimes _needed_ to talk about his brother, and the memories of better times. Tony explained that he sometimes – every time, really – _needed_ to express sarcasm in response. They'd come to an amicable agreement, that neither would be offended. "I always teased him about it, for using magic instead of fighting like a warrior."

"Yeah? Well, just a thought here, and I get that it's a stretch, but, I don't know, _maybe_ you ought to consider apologizing to him for that. Maybe a nice sincere apology would make him a tiny bit less homicidal. You could try flowers. Chocolates are good, too. I'm not sure they have a Hallmark card for 'Sorry I made fun of your magic, could you please stop attacking Earth now.' Oh! I've got it. Free yoga lessons, with a spa package. That could really do him some good."

Jane was laughing, but stopped when Thor looked her way. "Sorry."

"I shall keep it in mind," Thor said. He still didn't understand half of the things Tony said to him, but that was more than what he used to understand, and sometimes he wished he didn't understand as much as he did. "It sounds as though you have everything well under control."

"Not really. We can't _see_ what's going on down there. And I don't think we're picking him up on thermal imaging at all – can he adjust his body temperature?"

Thor frowned. "Yes, he probably can."

"Fantastic. So no, not under control. We don't know what he's doing now, and if the homicidal urges kick in again we won't-"

"You yourself said that he seems to be deliberately avoiding killing anyone," Thor said tiredly. He did not understand his brother, and _trying_ was tiring. It was as though everything had become a game for Loki, albeit a game that remained rather destructive.

"I did say that, operative word being 'seems.' Not a proven fact, and no guarantee he won't change his style again. Look, Thor…I know you've been trying not to get involved when Loki shows up, but I think he actually does more damage when you're _not_ there. You're his favorite thing to attack, after all. Plus…you have a pretty unique ability to clear smoke out of an area, don't you? We have to know what he's up to down there."

Thor didn't answer right away. For the last year, he had indeed attempted to disentangle himself from Loki's seemingly random attacks, and from Loki himself. He'd thought that perhaps Midgard would lose its appeal to Loki if Thor failed to show up to fight him. He'd thought Midgard and its inhabitants would be safer. His fellow Avenger warriors, what remained of their original cohort, had supported his decision. Since then, someone called him when Loki appeared, usually Tony, and explained the situation. Only once in that time had Thor's presence been deemed absolutely necessary to stop Loki. Four other times he had stayed away, waiting anxiously – morosely – for word of the battle. "You're certain I'm needed?"

"That's pretty much what I was just saying, yeah."

"Thor, it's fine. Do what you have to do. I'll be here when you get back."

Thor nodded, bade Tony farewell, handed Jane the phone, walked outside, stretched his arm out, smiled at Jane who was smiling at him from just outside the glass door, felt the familiar smack of Mjolnir's handle slamming into his palm from its long journey. Looked down at himself.

"Yeah, you can't wear that."

The swim trunks he wore low on his hips were a solid deep blue – he'd refused the ones with dolphins on them that Jane had tried to talk him into – and still a little damp from the swim he and Jane had taken in the ocean earlier.

Jane crooked a finger at him with _that look_ in her eye and Thor set Mjolnir down by the little pool and went to her as easily as Mjolnir came to him.

"We have a slight problem," she said into his neck a minute later, chest moving against his as she recovered her breath.

"Impossible."

"We sent all our clothes to the laundry this morning."

Thor pulled away and glanced around the room. His clothes had been strewn about – Jane's too, they were well-matched in that regard – but an employee of the resort had come by offering to take them to be cleaned.

"You still have your leather pants. No shirts, though. Can you just" – Jane paused and wiggled her fingers – "put the armor on, with Mjolnir?"

He nodded. It pinched uncomfortably, wearing the armor with nothing underneath. But he could hardly admit that to Jane. She started grinning, and Thor narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"You still can't wear your swim trunks. They'll ruin the leather. Guess what that means?"

He supposed it meant the leather pants were going to feel a little uncomfortable, too, but then Jane was darting away, and returning with a flat white box with a bright red bow wrapped around it. "I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but…"

Thor untied the ribbon and opened the box.

"It's a gift. You don't get to turn it down. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Of course I wouldn't turn it down." Thor may have been from another realm, but he did know how gifts worked. Especially gifts from one's lady.

"I did get you something else. But I was going to give you this first, because I wanted to see your face. It was pretty funny. Still is, actually."

"I thank you for it, Lady Jane," Thor said, cheeks feeling a little heated. Apparently, he was going to be wearing white boxers, as they were called here, with little red hearts on them.

"You're welcome," Jane answered with a smirk before going over to the wardrobe.

Sometimes Jane reminded him a little of Loki. He shivered and dismissed the thought as she returned with the few items of clothing he had available: his pants, his boots, and Meginjord. "No socks?"

"Nope."

So, his boots wouldn't fit precisely right and the metal on his chest would pinch. Nothing about confronting Loki was comfortable; there was no reason why his attire should be.

"Thor?"

"Yes?"

"I know you hate this. But you're doing the best you can."

He nodded and did his best to smile. Then Jane put her hands in his and squeezed, and it became a little easier.


	5. Thor, Part II-III

_**Megin...Meg...Thor's Magic Belt**_

 _ **Chapter 5**_

 **Thor, Part II**

Mjolnir flew faster without him than with him, but before long he was approaching New York City, and the Man of Iron was falling in beside him. The smoke was visible in the distance, enveloping and obscuring a portion of the city, just as Tony had described.

"Has anything changed?" he asked.

"No idea. Except there are even more people milling around down there. NYPD's got the whole area cordoned off but a bunch of people slipped through before they did – more reporters, thrill-seekers, who knows. They're trying to evacuate the buildings but the haze is so dense it's tough. And Loki's got to be down there somewhere, but nobody can find him."

"If Loki doesn't want to be found, you won't find him. Who else is here?"

"Natasha's down there, her reports are weird. She stumbled into a group of reporters sitting on a curb and eating pizza; they said they were fine, but they only got a brief glimpse of Loki before the fog rolled in, and they've been stuck there ever since. There's a lot of car accidents, hard to tell if Loki directly caused any of that or if it was just because of the fog. And Natasha swears she heard Loki's voice at one point, but she couldn't tell from which direction. Bruce is sitting this one out, obviously. Vision's been flying lower, but he's as blind as everyone else despite the name. The kid's down there, too. Police cordons don't exactly stop him, and he lives nearby. I told him to stay out of it. Typical teenager, he never does what I tell him. He hasn't found anything useful, either, but he did call me to tell me he felt tingly all over. I told him to get off the comms and if he wants to talk about hormones we can do that later. Not looking forward to that, really. I think I'd rather deal with Loki."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Hormones? Oh, my bad, the kid. Peter Parker. Spider-Man? Okay, I met him while you were off gallivanting around the galaxy, and I've been _trying_ to keep him out of trouble and _definitely_ away from Loki since then. Annnd I guess you don't watch much TV."

"He can take care of himself, this kid? Or do I need to get him out of the area? I don't wish to endanger a youth."

"You and me both. He can mostly take care of himself. Probably no match for your little brother, though. Start with the fog. If you can just _whoosh_ it on up, at least we can see what's going on down there, make sure everybody's safe, start a real evacuation. And you can deal with Loki."

A couple of minutes later, Thor was hovering far above Manhattan spinning Mjolnir over his head, and Tony had backed off to avoid getting caught in the turbulence. He introduced a gentle lifting motion, and Mjolnir, in tune with his every movement after centuries of experience, began to pull the smoke into a whirlwind tunnel of air. Slowly, the city came into view, and once all but a few traces of gray were gone from the streets below, he widened Mjolnir's arc and spun the whirlwind out of existence, dissipating the smoke into the upper atmosphere. Everything looked peaceful down there, at this distance. It was time to find out whether it really was.

* * *

 **Thor, Part III**

Identifying the location wasn't difficult. A crowd had gathered, a large one with perhaps a thousand or more people, converging in one general area. Images formed of bright lights covered the sides of surrounding buildings, the streets were clogged with vehicles, most of them the yellow taxis he always saw in New York City, and people seemed to fill every available space. Horns honked and voices blared over sound-amplifying machines. It was rather overwhelming after the quiet serenity of Fiji.

Finding a spot to place his feet on the ground would have been a challenge, except that at the center of the crowd, between two streets that met in a "v," was a long narrow opening. A path. The path, lined with the reporters Tony had spoken of, led to a wide red staircase that led nowhere, perhaps meant as bench seating, flanked by large signs that read "tkts," a word Thor did not recognize. At the very top of the staircase stood Loki. Horned helmet gleaming, cape ruffling in the breeze, stance comfortable and proud.

Thor landed with practiced ease in the center of the path, wondering if it was meant for him or for Loki. He scrutinized his brother for some sign of his intentions and found none. Loki merely stared down at him from his perch, so high above the crowd, still dwarfed by the buildings surrounding them all. Vision and Iron Man were in sight about a block away now, keeping their distance to give Thor a chance to end this quietly. Natasha could be anywhere but Thor was certain she was nearby. And on one of the familiar yellow "M's" across the street, "golden arches" as Jane called them – Jane liked McDonald's, but Thor preferred Burger King – a figure in form-fitting red clothing that covered his entire body, including his head, perched in a seemingly impossible position. _The kid_ , Thor assumed, hoping he didn't try to stray from his golden arch.

"Loki," Thor said, having taken his lay of the surroundings, "whatever you're planning, _don't_. These people don't deserve to be caught up in your schemes. Don't hurt them." He took a few steps forward, craning his neck higher to keep his eyes fixed on his brother, at the top of the stairs.

"Don't come any closer, and no one will be harmed. I have no wish to harm any of them. They do serve a purpose, though."

Loki, thankfully, didn't sound particularly unhinged today. On the other hand, sometimes he did his worst right after not sounding particularly unhinged, so Thor wasn't certain whether that was a good sign or a bad sign. He decided it was best not to be overly confrontational, though. If he tried to subdue Loki, Loki would fight, and people _would_ be harmed. He glanced around him again, trying to look past all the cameras and lights swiveling away from Loki and back to him. Right in front of one section of the crowd, arms outstretched to try to keep them back or perhaps do what little he could to protect them from whatever was to come, was another familiar face, which nodded at him as he stared. Thor recognized him then, the man who had called him in Fiji to insist Meginjord was missing when it clearly was not – he wore it even now. He remembered then why the man's name, Happy, always eluded him – he _never_ looked happy. Of course, no one looked happy now.

"What _do_ you want, then, Loki? Perhaps we can go somewhere, just you and I, away from all these people, and discuss it."

Loki laughed, long and loud, as Thor debated whether that laughter sounded only mildly unhinged or severely so. "At the moment, that would rather defeat the purpose," he finally said. "I did _just_ tell you that they serve one."

"Which is?" Thor prompted, growing annoyed now. It sounded like their main purpose was to force Thor to stand here and let Loki mock him.

Loki's expression sobered then; Thor tensed. "I wanted witnesses. For this entire world to bear witness, for this moment to be recorded for posterity."

Thor looked around uneasily, but his gaze snapped back up when Loki started to descend the stairs, stepping down bench by bench. The similarity to descending from Asgard's throne was not lost on Thor; Loki had always taken care with appearances. But this was different from anything he'd seen from his brother before. Loki had never shown any interest in Midgard's media.

"I tire of this, Brother. The constant battles between us. The constant games."

That was easily solved, Thor thought, jaw clenched tight. Stop attacking Midgard and the Avengers and there will be no more battles between us. Stop _playing_ games and there will be no more of those, either. It was galling – with "games" Thor knew Loki included playing dead and pretending to be their father, ruling Asgard while Odin slept, hidden away. But this, perhaps, was the purpose of the crowd. Thor could say none of this in front of them. He would not drag their personal business before cameras and strangers, so he would be forced to listen to Loki dragging his own version of it before them instead.

Loki came to a stop on the bottom step, putting him just a little higher than Thor and some twenty feet away. A green shimmer appeared around him, and his helmet and heavy coat and cape melted away, leaving him looking much softer, less threatening. "You don't need that," he said, gesturing at Mjolnir in Thor's hand. "No more fighting. You win."

Thor stood still, examining Loki for some sign of his true intent. Loki _looked_ entirely sincere. Of course, he had also looked entirely sincerely _dead_ not so long ago, too. Loki surrendering to him was unimaginable. Loki _publicly_ surrendering to him? Loki stripping naked and belly-dancing to Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" right there on that bench was more likely.

Whatever Loki had planned, it was brilliant, and really, Thor could expect no less. His brother had maneuvered him into a position where he had little choice but to play along.

"All right," he answered warily. "No more fighting. Let's go somewhere else and talk. Just us."

"I cannot talk peace with you while you yet hold a weapon," Loki said, sounding the epitome of reason.

Thor frowned. As if Loki didn't have at _least_ a dozen knives stuffed away into his clothing. Half his weight was probably knives. If Loki thought Thor was going to let himself be separated from Mjolnir he was mistaken. Loki could have his knives close at hand, and Thor could have Mjolnir close at hand. He didn't have to have it physically _in_ his hand, fine.

He hooked it over his belt and let go, raising his hands to hold them out and show that they were empty, ready for Loki's next move, but in the next second he heard a snap and a rip and a thud. Loki was smiling and there was a breeze that had not been there before.

He looked down. Mjolnir was on the street beside him. Meginjord had somehow broken, and his pants hung down below his hip on his left, and down to his thigh on his right. Where his old leather pants had been he now wore only white underpants with little red hearts. Thousands of cameras big and small captured images of him.

* * *

 _Notes_

 _So, um, yeah, you did notice that "humor" category, right? ::Blushes and runs away from this silliness:: (But not too far...because there's more to come.)_


	6. Loki I, Thor IV-VII, Happy V-VII

**Megin...Meg...Thor's Magic Belt**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Loki, Part I**

Thor's face turned as red as those little hearts on his underpants. He could have stood there watching forever, but he had to remind himself that he could now watch it on thousands of Twitter feeds and YouTube channels and television news stations as many times as he wanted, as long as he wanted. And in a few seconds, Thor's shock would turn to fury, and a furious Thor was a dangerous Thor. He made himself invisible, headed for the crowd, and transformed.

* * *

 **Thor, Part IV**

Thor looked up again. Loki was gone.

"LOKI!"

* * *

 **Thor, Part V**

"You want an interview? I'll give you an interview!" Thor shouted at the man, the hundredth man who shoved a microphone in his face.

His pants, an old pair, worn and stretched, started to droop again and he grabbed them at the waist with his free hand and yanked hard, causing another short ripping sound. The instinct to let Mjolnir take him aloft and _away_ was strong, but the wind would force him to hold his pants up the entire time to keep them from hanging on by his boots. And then there would be images of _that_.

"Nope, no interviews for Thor," Tony said, coming to rest beside him, raising the Iron Man faceplate. "Back off, now. He's still got to find Loki. We don't know if showing off what the god of thunder's got on down under is all he had in mind."

Thor whirled on Tony.

"I'm so sorry. It just came to me, and I couldn't help myself. I mean, come on, it _rhymed_."

Thor reminded himself that punching Tony at full strength with that faceplate up might kill him. Tempting, in the moment. He reminded himself that he would regret it afterward. Not so easy, in the moment.

"Okay, okay. Happy, escort him out of here, will you? Try to keep the hacks off him. I'll hold these guys off. There's a car coming, but I don't think it's going to be able to get through. Just get him to the tower."

* * *

 **Happy, Part V**

"Move it, let him pass!" Happy shouted.

This was really not his job anymore. Tony had promoted him. Now didn't seem like the best time to point that out, though. On his right was a storming god of thunder. On his left...and behind him and in front of him and on Thor's right…were shouting journalists and screaming teenage girls and a couple million people trying to get selfies. Luckily, though, most people seemed to figure out that if they didn't get out of Thor's way they were going to get trampled.

The persistent journalist at Thor's right suddenly pitched forward and fell, quickly left behind and probably actually trampled. Unfortunate, but there was nothing Happy could do about it. A pretty young black woman in something like a waitress's uniform took the journalist's place, just as persistently holding on to it but thankfully without the constant barrage of questions.

By the time they reached the tower, emptied out but still technically Tony's for the next four days, the crowd had thinned. A hundred or so people, mostly teens who apparently had nothing better to do with their time, still followed.

Teens, and that waitress, who somehow managed to slip in with them before Happy locked the door behind them.

* * *

 **Thor, Part VI**

Thor was going to kill Loki. That was it, the end. Fighting was one thing. He and Loki had _always_ fought. Not like they did now, of course, but still. They were brothers, close in age, raised on a realm full of warriors. Of course they'd fought. But humiliating him like this in front of an entire realm…Jane herself had probably seen it at the resort, on France 24. He didn't know _how_ Loki had done it, but he knew without a doubt that he had. He was going to kill Loki.

* * *

 **Happy, Part VI**

"Okay, lady. You're going to have to go now. I'm pretty sure your break is over."

Thor was still walking, toward the elevator bank, and the woman was following.

Happy hurried up and placed himself in front of her; she pushed and kept going. She was tougher than she looked. "Hey. This is private property."

She ignored him. Manhandling a woman was _not_ on the list of things he'd wanted to do today when he got up.

"Look…Ilima," he said, reading out her nametag. He wasn't so sure she was black, now that he took a more careful look at her face; there was something a little exotic in her features. "That's an odd name," he muttered to himself, because the lady was still not even looking at him. But then, to his surprise, she did.

"It's Fijian," she said.

* * *

 **Thor, Part VII**

Thor stopped, mid-stride, took a moment to steady himself, and turned.

He had noticed the woman earlier, but paid her no more mind than any of the others. He didn't recognize her, but he recognized her tan-and-blue clothing, the shirt and skirt uniform worn by some of the female staff at his and Jane's resort in Fiji.

And he recognized that smirk forming in the corner of her lips.

"Good morning, sir. May I collect your laundry? I promise I'll return it promptly."

* * *

 **Happy, Part VII**

Thor dropped Mjolnir and lunged for the woman's neck.

Happy's eyes bugged out.

This was _definitely_ not part of his new job.

He tried to get himself in Thor's line of view – physically stopping Thor was a lost cause, not to mention a hazardous one – and get his attention. "Let her go, man. She's just crazy. I'll get her out of here."

"She isn't a she," Thor answered, eyes never wavering from the woman he was trying to choke to death. So maybe Thor was crazy, too.

But then there was that green shimmer again, and Happy understood. Well, that was a stretch. He didn't understand anything, really, except that this was no Fijian waitress. Thor's hands were around _Loki's_ neck, and Loki's arm was swinging and his leg was kicking – classic defense moves that Happy knew well – and now there were two Asgardians having a standoff. About two feet away from him.

Happy carefully backed off.


	7. Thor Part XIII, Happy Part XIII

_**Megin...Meg...Thor's Magic Belt**_

 _ **Chapter 7**_

 **Thor, Part VIII**

"Ah…Brother…" Loki made a tiny, brief movement of his finger, pointing at Thor's waist.

Thor yanked. "If you want to fight, let's fight."

"Oh, I think the moment for that has passed, don't you? What would be the point in this place?"

The lobby of Avengers Tower was large and open – plenty of room for tossing Loki around – but it was also jarringly empty, now that he really took it in. Desolate.

"Besides, I really thought you'd have a more interesting question for me: how."

Thor shook his head sullenly. "I don't care how. You said you were tired of fighting. You said you were tired of games. And then you…you devised some plot to… I am done, Loki. I can't trust anything you say or do. You never cease your attacks. This is the end. Happy, a car was coming for me? I would like it to take me anywhere that isn't here."

A gaggle of illusion-Loki's appeared in front of him when he started back for the door. Thor walked right through them without a second look.

"You don't leave until I say you can leave. I will destroy this building."

Thor stopped. Let the latest wave of rage roll through and out of him. He turned. "What do you want from me, Loki?"

Loki didn't respond; Thor started to leave again.

"Why did you stop coming to fight me?"

Thor narrowed his eyes. "I thought you might stop coming to attack if I wasn't there to goad you on."

Loki again kept his silence, but this time Thor waited.

"You said you never wanted to see me again."

"What?"

"After you found out I'd been impersonating Odin. You said you were done then. Do you know how many times you've said that?"

Thor had no answer. He felt like he'd said it many times.

"And yet each time I attacked, there you were."

"I had little choice."

"Exactly."

Behind a look that said he thought Loki was mad – and no small part of him did think that – comprehension was dawning. "You were seeking me out? Because you…wanted to see me?"

"Not just _see_ you. I can _see_ you anytime I want. Where's the fun in that? All right, I admit, _sometimes_ it's entertaining. Seeing Jane do this 'belly-dancing' was certainly a highlight."

"Loki…," Thor said, closing the distance between them again, fresh wave of rage making his fists tremble with the need to act. That had been a few days ago. Jane had been wearing a bikini top and a sarong tied over a bikini bottom. And Loki… "You watched us? You watched _her_?"

"Oh, God," Happy said from somewhere behind Thor.

"Of course. How do you think I arranged all this? Oh, right. You weren't interested in the 'how.' To assuage your concern, though, I watched _you_. Not her. I might have gotten a little distracted during the belly-dancing, but for the most part I watched you. If there's no _purpose_ behind it, though, I may as well go sit in one of your movie theaters all day, watch _those_ people. At least they're paid to be entertaining."

"I can't believe you. Toying with me is one thing. Invading Jane's privacy, watching her like that…it's sickening. Shameful."

"Oh, come on, Brother, you were outdoors and perfectly visible from the beach. At least with the superior vision of a non-mortal. And I _did_ leave once the dancing phase came to an end."

Thor's hands tensed. Loki was pushing every button Thor had and then some. "Never do that again. I mean it, Loki. I will not warn you again on it."

"What recourse do you leave me, then? You will only corner me into something worse."

"Recourse for what? Do you even realize how mad you sound? You've never been the same since you fell from the bridge."

Loki laughed, a harsh brittle sound, the disgusting joviality of a moment before gone. "We both know the bridge was hardly the ball that set the rest in motion. I've never been the same since I found out my entire life was a lie. Can you truly blame me?"

"For being angry? No. For attacking innocent people? Yes, Loki, I can. I do."

"No one is truly innocent."

Thor shook his head. Wondered why he bothered engaging Loki at all. Weapons, fists, words, it was all the same. Useless. "You wanted to draw me out? Why? There's nothing here. Nothing between us anymore. You say I'm not your brother? Fine, I'm not your brother."

"Nothing between us? A thousand years of history are between us. Love and jealousy and hate are between us. Don't lie to me or yourself, you know this to be true. You can't ignore it. I won't let you. I'll always find a way."

"Why? Why, Loki?"

"What else is there?"

"What do you mean?"

"For me. What else is there for me? This is all that's left. These primal instincts. This fundamental tension. The evil, false brother and the good brother. The attacker and the savior. The clever and the idiotic. You really need a new belt."

It took a moment this time, but Thor broke free of the spell of Loki's words and tugged at his pants again.

"I have nothing left, Thor. This is it. This is everything. You've already taken from me what I managed to gain. This is why I exist now. This is _where_ I exist. You there," he said, pointing vaguely toward Thor's feet, "and me here," he said, pointing to himself. "You told me to know my place? I know it now. My place is eternal opposition…to you. Think of it this way. We both know why you don't kill me, even when you can. But have you ever wondered why I don't kill you?"

Thor drew up to his full height; Loki cackled.

"Oh, _I_ see. You think it's because I've never had the opportunity?"

Before Thor's eyes green shimmered again over Loki's form and the woman in the resort clothing reappeared.

"Care to reconsider that, sir? I brought you some fresh towels," Loki said in the accented voice of a young woman, suddenly brandishing towels, which then transformed into a sword.

Thor opened his palm, but did not call Mjolnir. Loki wasn't attacking. He was making a point.

"And if you think I still couldn't have killed _you_ , imagine how easily I could have slaughtered your mortal," Loki continued, still speaking in a woman's voice. Still smiling. Then more green, and Loki was Loki again.

"If you had done that, if you had even _attempted_ it, my reticence to kill you would evaporate," Thor said, voice devoid of emotion.

"I know that. And for future reference, you _do_ attract powerful enemies, and you'd do well not to leave Mjolnir elsewhere when you travel."

Thor held his tongue. Jane had insisted he leave Mjolnir behind. And he was perfectly capable of protecting her without it. But it was true that he couldn't be with her at all times, and Loki had managed to be alone with Jane in his disguise. He had never considered that Loki might pursue Jane like that. But he should have. Loki had warned of it in the observatory, using an implied threat against Jane just as he was now, to provoke. To ensure that Thor fought. And kept fighting?

"Do you see yet?" Loki asked when Thor's eyes found his again. "If either of us actually won, or worse yet, _quit_ …what would become of us then?" He paused to laugh. " _You_ , I suppose, would get along just fine, if the guilt didn't consume you. Me? What is a shadow, bereft of that which cast it? Doesn't it cease to exist?"

"I don't know why you still speak of shadows. I never meant to put you in a shadow, but you aren't in one now."

"Hey, uh, Thor?"

* * *

 **Happy, Part VIII**

They'd forgotten he was there, it was pretty clear. Thor, he thought, looked surprised he was still in the lobby. Loki didn't look surprised. Just annoyed. Happy focused on Thor. Because Loki looked annoyed.

"You should go, ahhh…Happy."

Happy ground his teeth, for just a couple of seconds, enough to let the moment of irritation pass. This was going to go on all day and Stark Tower was going to be at risk of collapsing as the two Asgardians eventually came to blows and duked it out in the lobby. "I think Loki's trying to say he misses you."

Thor looked confused. But now it was Loki he couldn't drag his eyes away from. The psycho wannabe King of Earth was staring at him like he could _literally_ vaporize him with magic Asgardian eye lasers. And while Happy had never actually heard of him doing anything like that to anyone, for all he knew he was about to be the first case. After a tense moment, however, Loki's gaze shifted back to Thor.

"I don't know who that peon is, but he's even more of an idiot than you are."

"Hey!" Happy said. It was reflex. Stupid reflex, that seriously needed to be reined in. If Thor couldn't remember his name, well, that was a little hurtful. If Loki – _Loki_ – didn't know who he was, and didn't care? That was what was called a Good Thing. Luckily, neither of them was paying any attention to him now.

* * *

 _Notes_

 _One more chapter to go, I think, depending where I divide it. I've never even actually bothered to break this story into separate Word docs; it's all in one giant Word doc. Loki, by the way, would *totally* use a word like "peon." Weirdly enough I had to look up how to spell it...eh, see? Writing is good for you. I learned how to spell peon. (I think maybe I'd seen it before in some historical context, or maybe British usage, where it has an "a" in there somewhere? The things one learns...)_


	8. Thor IX-X, Happy IX, Loki II

_.-._

 ** _Megin…Meg…Thor's Magic Belt_**

 **Thor, Part IX**

"You miss me? You attack me, you humiliate me…because you miss me?" For all the words Loki had used, it surely couldn't be that simple. That _insane_.

"I did _not_ say that. It's a ridiculous assertion. Foolhardy and reductionist. Idiotic. It _does_ sound like something you would believe, come to think of it."

Thor ignored Loki's unsurprising last sentence in favor of the long string of adjectives in front of it. A _very_ long string of adjectives, for something Thor was supposedly so far from the truth on. The more he thought about it…he thought Happy was right. The only interaction he and Loki had was when Loki attacked. Until today, when Loki had somehow orchestrated Thor standing in front of thousands of cameras with his pants hanging down while he wore a rather embarrassing undergarment. After Thor had stopped showing up when Loki attacked.

"It doesn't have to be…eternal opposition," Thor said, recalling the phrase Loki had used. "If you missed me, we could have gone out for coffee together sometime."

"I don't _miss_ you. And you must be forgetting the part where you said you wanted nothing to do with me ever again. Despite me reminding you of it just a few minutes ago."

"I was angry. I was tired of your lies," Thor answered defensively, voice quiet. People said things they didn't mean when they were angry. The moment he'd said that, though? He was fairly sure he'd meant it.

"And now you're over it and you'd like to sit and drink coffee with me? While we talk about…I don't know, what would be a safe topic, the weather? Ah, no, you can control that, not a safe topic. How about the merits of dark versus blonde roast?"

Thor's face fell. From Loki's lips, in that non-sarcastic tone that so plainly conveyed his sarcasm, it _did_ sound absurd. And impossible. "So you will simply keep attacking…and if I fail to respond…"

"Then I get _creative_ ," Loki finished for him, a gleam in his eye that definitely made him look unhinged.

"But this is blackmail."

Loki seemed to consider it, arching an eyebrow, then shrugged. "I suppose so."

"What do we do now?"

"We could go for coffee and stare at each other while you inhale Pop-Tarts and black sludge, but we both know that's not going to work. Fighting sounds _much_ more productive, not to mention enjoyable, don't you think? And I've reconsidered about the location. We're in the perfect place for it. This building is completely deserted. The whole thing can come down around us and you won't have to shed any tears for your precious Midgardians. Ready?" Loki said, reaching for knives that appeared in his hands, just as a dozen more Lokis appeared behind him, each with a different weapon.

Mjolnir leapt back into Thor's hand. He eyed Loki warily. This "trick" was a simple distraction. It was perfectly clear which one was actually Loki. But it would take only an instant for chaos to descend and he would lose track of what was real and what was illusion and this building _would_ be in danger.

"Hey, guys, sorry, just me, still here. Listen, can I have a minute?"

* * *

 **Happy, Part IX**

Loki stood right next to him. Lightly striking the handle of a huge medieval-looking _ax_ against one palm. And now ax-wielding Loki was glaring at him. _All_ of the Lokis were glaring at him. He knew they weren't real, exactly, but he wasn't sure if those weapons they were each holding were or not. He didn't really want to find out. Ax-wielding Loki turned to fully face him, and swung the ax in a broad arc before slamming the handle against his palm. Happy could swear he felt a breeze from the whoosh of the blade.

"Happy, please, I cannot guarantee your safety in these circumstances."

"Oh, yes, Happy, please. I can guarantee your non-safety in these circumstances."

Fantastic. Thor remembered his name now. And so did Loki. He could break out in a cold sweat over that one later. Or now could work, too. "I had an idea. Have either of you heard of boxing?"

A lot of the Lokis fixed him with various expressions of anger, irritation, and suspicion, while the rest looked bored and "played" with their weapons. One threw a knife at him, and laughed when he jerked to avoid it and the knife faded away. Thor looked pretty clueless, but also wary, continually glancing toward the real Loki.

"Though we grew up with servants, of course we've _heard_ of it. But I thought everything had already been packed," Thor finally said. "You think we would be able to set aside our differences if we worked together boxing up the rest of Tony's belongings?"

Every Loki turned to Thor and fixed him with identical withering glares.

"Not exactly. Though that could be a good idea, too. Uhhh, maybe. I'm not sure Tony would approve, but it doesn't matter because everything _is_ already packed up and that's not what I meant. Boxing is a sport. A well-respected sport with a long history. It's in the Olympics and everything. Basically two guys punching each other, but you gotta have some technique. Some strength, some street smarts. You go for usually three rounds of three minutes each, and you score points by landing clean hits on the other guy. You win by scoring the most points, or, you know, if the other guy goes down and stays down. You wear gloves to protect your hands and there are rules limiting where you can hit each other. I can fill you in on all the rules; I've got a little experience under the old belt. The whole thing takes place in a ring. The fight has to stay inside the ropes, nice and contained." No damage to the building, just to each other. And both Thor and Loki, the real one, looked interested. Though Loki also looked suspicious and vaguely homicidal. The usual.

"How big is this ring?" Thor asked.

"It can vary, but…let's say twenty by twenty."

Now they both just looked confused.

"Feet," Happy added.

Thor nodded; Loki still looked confused.

"Those measurements do not make sense for a ring," Loki said.

"Ohhhhh, yeah, right. It used to be a ring. In ancient Greece. Where we get the Olympics from. The name stuck. But it's a square now." Happy wasn't sure if that was right or not, but he figured it wasn't like either Thor or Loki would know any better. And it was _probably_ right.

"I would be willing to try it, Loki. A fight in a confined space, between you and me alone, would spare this building and all others from destruction, and no mortal lives would be imperiled."

"Of course you would," the real Loki said. "The venue favors you. Only hitting? No knives, no other weapons? No magic?"

"Only hitting," Happy quickly answered, because that was the point, after all. "And magic's generally against the rules in pretty much all Earth sports."

"Is that written in the rules?"

"Um, well…probably not. I mean, no. But that's-"

"Then it's permitted. Even if it wasn't, we would simply modify the rules, because as described they are unacceptable. If you are bold enough to attempt it on my terms," Loki said – the rest of the Lokis disappeared then, to Happy's great relief – "then I will destroy you with boxing. And, I suppose, this building could then be spared."

Happy clenched his fist tightly and bumped it against his thigh – as close to a giant fist-pump as he dared. And then Thor spoke up.

"Your terms? Your terms that allow you to subvert a Midgardian sport and cheat your way through it? While I just stand there and allow it? I don't accept your terms."

* * *

 **Loki, Part II**

"I see," Loki said, forcing the tension from his body. He gave a loose shrug, took a few aimless steps while adopting a look of deep contemplation. "Hm. I wonder…"

"Loki…"

"Traffic lights. So colorful, quite pretty when looked upon from a distance. Did you know they don't all work the same? In some countries one of the lights flashes to indicate that the red light is about to turn green. Not this one, though. I wonder if the traffic outside is still snarled. Didn't you ask for a vehicle to take you away from here? Such beautiful chaos when the lights can't be seen. Or when they don't function as they should. I wonder what would happen if they all stopped working. In an entire country. If they all turned red, and stayed that way. What if they all turned green at the same time? I do have such a fondness for green."

"Hey, boss? I think you-"

As soon as Loki turned his gaze toward the little man's moving lips, no further noise escaped them. Seconds later the man was shouting. Trying to, anyway, lips flapping uselessly. Spittle flew; sound did not.

"Did you just question my parentage? That's a bit of a sore spot, I'm afraid. I might have to do something about that."

The man stopped, glared, then started jabbing away at his phone. Less annoying than the talking; still unacceptable. The man's face contorted in a soundless shout, hands jerking away from the phone which clattered to the ground. A tendril of smoke wafted up from it. Cradling his burned hand, Happy had probably never looked less happy.

Loki smiled.

For about a second, before the slab of marble on the wall behind him was shattered…by his head slamming into it.

He really should have expected that, he thought as a dazed grin spread from ear to ringing ear. It was, after all, more or less his goal.

* * *

 **Thor, Part X**

Thor stood there, panting, one fist dug into the leather of Loki's dusty surcoat, the other clenched and ready to slam into Loki's smirking face.

He'd forced himself not to react, even as Loki spoke idly of mischief that could easily turn deadly. Even as Loki's attention fell on Happy. He knew Loki wouldn't deliberately murder someone who was doing nothing more threatening than standing nearby and speaking into a phone. Apparently, though, Loki wasn't averse to _wounding_ an unarmed man.

And Thor had given him exactly what he wanted: a fight.

He lowered his fist, slowly, disentangled his fingers from Loki's clothing.

Loki pulled himself up straight, bits of dark crumbled stone skittering off him. He brushed the back of his hand against his lapels, in a useless attempt at dusting them off, probably just for show. "If _that_ fails, I'll become _truly_ bored. And I'll think about who else might be bored. All alone on an island so far from home. Perhaps I'll pay her a visit after all."

Thor wouldn't have been surprised if heavy puffs of steam were coming from his nose as he fought for control of his anger. "You want to fight."

"Only if _you_ want to. I know you're busy. And improperly dressed."

He didn't even bother yanking up his pants this time. "On your terms."

"Obviously. I can be reasonable, though. Make some allowances for your…inadequacies."

"Happy?"

"Yeah."

"Where is the nearest boxing ring?"

* * *

 _Notes_

All the apologies, I kept kind of forgetting this story existed, except at times when I couldn't do anything about it. It goes back to my laptop woes, and this story not making it to all the places it needed to be for me to access it. So now I doubled down on getting this chapter and the next (and last!) finalized; I'll put it up in the next couple of days, too. Woo-hoo, crosses another in-progress of the list. And that is...because I've given in and decided to put up another in-progress one. It's an Infinity War fix-it, and with Endgame around the corner, it's now or never. (As in, I fear that if I don't put it up now I never will, and I particularly want to share this one.) So...yeah, what I have of that one will start going up once this one is marked complete.

By the way! If you search for helensilivren's Tumblr and the post "Midgardian Tech for Newbies" you will find some art based on a moment from this story. Check it out!


	9. Loki Part III, Thor Part XI

.-. _  
_

 ** _Megin…Meg…Thor's Magic Belt_**

 **Loki, Part III**

"I don't even know who won."

Loki made a noise at the back of his throat. "Translation: Thor lost. The mighty Thor lost, and he's too embarrassed to admit it."

"Only because you cheated."

"You say cheating, I say superior strategizing."

The two sat slumped on the floor, shoulder to shoulder against the wall. Thor was still recovering his breath. So was Loki, but he was better at hiding it.

"You look ridiculous."

Loki looked Thor's way, but Thor was already facing forward again. "Because of all this idiotic padding on my head? You're wearing the same, you oaf. _And_ you're wearing… _that_ ," he said, waving a hand in the general direction of Thor's thighs. They'd barely begun before Thor tired of trying to keep his pants on and decided to simply fight in the red-hearted underpants. It had given the blond fool an unfair advantage, since every now and then Loki would forget what Thor was wearing, then notice it again and have to hold fresh laughter at bay.

They fell silent, and after a minute or two Loki worked the gloves off, followed by the headgear. They really were comical, and certainly did nothing to lighten the blows from their fists…or elbows or knees or feet. But Happy had managed to obtain a green set and a red set and Loki couldn't resist. In a moment of uncharacteristic levity he'd even adjusted the shape of the headgear to add padded – but still majestic – gold horns to his and dinky little puffy gold feathers to Thor's.

He brushed sweaty flattened hair from his forehead and the sides of his face while Thor removed his gear, too.

The silence dragged on, but it wasn't the most unpleasant of silences, and Loki needed the time. Everything had a course to run, and this, he thought, had reached its end.

"I wouldn't actually hurt her." It wasn't as hard to say as he'd thought, staring across at the opposite wall, side throbbing, knowing Thor was going to be favoring his right leg for a while.

"I know."

Loki carefully hid his reaction, and _that_ was hard. _None_ of his threats had been taken seriously? They hadn't caused even the _slightest_ bit of genuine worry? He'd even _meant_ some of those threats. And Thor's reactions had been genuine, he had no doubt of it. "Not badly, anyway," he felt compelled to tack on.

Loki turned to see Thor giving him an odd look, somewhere in between offended and amused.

"You wouldn't be Loki anymore if you did. You'd be a…a caricature of him. A shell."

Loki wasn't sure what Thor meant by that – he wasn't sure if _Thor_ knew what Thor meant by that – and he didn't know what to say to it, so he said nothing.

"I wouldn't know you anymore," he continued. "Granted, I suppose I don't know you all that well _now_. Happy knows you better than I do."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Then why did he scream and run like I was throwing a grenade at him when I was actually throwing a healing stone at him?"

Thor chuckled. "All right. No one knows you very well. _I_ knew it wasn't a grenade, though."

"Only because you don't know what a grenade is."

"I know well what a grenade is," Thor retorted in a voice not unlike that of a petulant child. "I have received training concerning all sorts of Midgardian weaponry. But I thought you were throwing an illusion at him."

Silence returned; Loki shifted his position to ease a growing muscle ache, drawing up his knees with his feet still planted on the floor.

"How _did_ you do it, Loki? How did you know I…you pretended to work at the resort and you took all of our laundry, but…how did you know I would have this to wear? _I_ didn't even know I had this to wear. It was…a gift. And how did you ensure that— I wasn't wearing the real Meginjord, was I?"

"Are you really just now figuring that out?"

"Just tell me how."

"You said you didn't care."

"Loki…"

"Fine, fine," Loki quickly got out. It was pleasant, this particular moment, and Thor growling his name was a clear warning that it wasn't going to last if he didn't answer. Loki was worn out, and not in the mood for another fight. "Like I said, I was watching you, not her, but she was there, too. She fed you a pitiful excuse of a lie to get you to go away, which you naturally believed with all your mortal-smitten heart, so of course I had to find out what she was up to. When I saw her buy you…well, _that_ garment…there was only one thing to do."

"One thing."

"Of course."

"Knocking on our door to say hello didn't occur to you?"

Loki face twisted into a dramatically exaggerated grimace. "Why would _that_ have occurred to me?"

"No idea."

"Hm. Anyway, I put a little plan in motion and here we are."

"But you humiliated me, Loki. You gathered all those journalists, but you know nearly all of the Midgardians carry devices with them that capture images. The entire realm will be laughing at me!"

"Oh, don't go getting worked up about it. It isn't that terrible. It's just underwear. Everyone wears it."

Thor gave him a skeptical look.

"Well, most people, I suppose."

"Not everyone wears underwear like _this_. And not in public."

"That was the point."

They fell into silence. Loki didn't mind it; it was a companionable silence. Relatively speaking. Deceptively speaking. Loki didn't mind deception, either, of course.

"Loki…"

And of course Thor couldn't let a good thing alone. Loki preferred the growled version of his name to this probing, tentative, "let's talk about our feelings" version.

"Do you really feel like this is all you have left? A fight? Opposition?"

Loki awarded himself bonus points for Thor having actually used the word "feel." "It's not the _worst_ motivation for getting up in the morning."

"But what if…" – Thor shifted around on the floor to better face him – "what if there was a different kind of fight?"

"Oh, I do my best to ensure every fight is different. If you're finding things stagnant, as I said, I'm always willing to be more creative."

"That's not what I mean. I mean…what if we worked together?"

Loki narrowed his eyes. Fighting was the only thing he and Thor could do "together." Other than sit in rapidly souring companionable silence immediately _after_ fighting. "To do what, precisely?"

"Fight. Villains. Instead of each other."

"What villains? You do realize _I'm_ the villain, don't you?"

* * *

 **Thor, Part XI**

Thor physically recoiled. Loki had never called himself that. Thor had never truly _thought_ of him as that. An opponent, yes. A lost cause…yes, though consciously thinking it never failed to prompt guilty feelings. But not a villain. Even if he did seem to fill that role.

"There are always villains," Thor said, choosing to gloss over Loki's last words. "These Midgardians, they need our assistance. We can help defend them, together."

"Sounds boring," Loki said, barely looking up from the padded helmet he was fiddling with.

"I would think you'd find it refreshing. You've played the part of the villain for a while now. Doesn't _that_ get boring? You have to already be bored to stoop to making my pants fall down in public. That's not even an actual fight."

"How can your memory possibly be that short? Of course it wasn't an actual fight. It was meant to goad you into an actual fight, and it worked."

"But perhaps-"

" _I_ have an idea. I think we should…one moment." Loki stood and put his back to Thor. "Happy!" he shouted. "Your presence is required. I know you can hear me. Return immediately."

Thor dragged himself up from the floor. It was hard to imagine, anyway. Loki, fighting as a hero, at his side, as they once had. Fighting alongside the Avengers, who would probably be more than a little skeptical of the idea. For an instant, though, it had seemed possible, even likely. Jane said it was something she liked about him, that he was an optimist. Sometimes when she said it, after some new disappointment, he thought she used "optimist" the way Loki used "fool," and he wasn't sure who was right.

"Perhaps he left," Thor said when no response came.

"That man? No. He hasn't gone far."

Loki headed out of the empty room – empty but for the boxing ring that had been hastily delivered from somewhere else and set up here in what had until recently been Avengers Tower – and Thor followed.

* * *

 _Notes_

I lied, two more chapter after this...I keep forgetting how short the chapters in this story are (and then I went and added more to what became the last chapter). To keep things in the same general length range, then, yep, eleven chapters. I even split them into separate documents at long last so the word (and page) count is more obvious.

One more thing. I'm pretty sure you will have guessed this...but Thor and Loki weren't *entirely* following the rules of boxing that Happy assiduously laid out for them. I'm sure Thor tried to...at first.


	10. Happy, Part X

.-.

 ** _Megin…Meg…Thor's Magic Belt_**

 **Happy, Part X**

"Yeah, Boss. No, I'm telling you they're—. Nobody's missing any ear chunks. No. I gotta go. So, good fight, guys?" Happy asked, stashing the phone away in a pocket as fast as he could.

"Hand over the phone," Loki said, palm flat.

"I just got this one."

"I know. It already has an internet connection, doesn't it?"

Happy nodded, reluctantly.

Loki stuck his hand out a little closer.

Happy reached back into his pocket and handed over the phone, even more reluctantly. He had _just_ gotten it set up the way he liked it.

"Behave and I'll return it in perfect condition. And here, don't run away like a child this time, break this over your injury and your hand will be as good as new."

Loki's other hand was now extended toward him, a dark gray rock atop it, and Happy could swear that hand had been empty a second ago. He looked to Thor, not about to take Loki's word for anything.

Thor took the rock and motioned for Happy to unwrap the bandage from his hand. Thor was also mostly blocking Loki, which meant Happy couldn't see what Loki was doing to his phone. The best he could hope for, he figured, was that Loki was simply destroying it, and he was going to be setting up another new phone.

When he heard Loki laugh, his hope faded.

Happy was distracted again when Thor broke the rock over his open palm. Where he could see the skin underneath the hastily applied antibiotic burn cream, it itched and turned a healthy-looking pink. He poked at it gingerly, prepared for pain that didn't come.

Loki erupted in laughter.

Not Bad Guy laughter or ironic laughter or scornful laughter.

Real, honest-to-God normal-person laughter.

Loki was _smiling_. Normal-person smiling.

Beaming, even.

"Look at this one," Loki said, waving his fingers in a "come here" signal.

Happy figured Loki was most likely asking for Thor, but he followed, positioning himself behind the big blond and straining to see around him. He was becoming more comfortable – if that was the word – around Loki, but that didn't mean he was stupid.

"Thanks, Mark. The mood in Manhattan this evening is slowly calming, as a feared new battle centered around Times Square thankfully failed to materialize. Instead, we learned that even the Avengers can face serious wardrobe malfunctions. Today, the world saw a new side of Asgardian Avenger Thor, a side which answered the question 'boxers or briefs.' As you can see, for the god of thunder it's a resounding 'boxers.'"

"Loki, enough," Thor said, groaning when of _course_ Loki acted like he hadn't heard and the network reporter kept going, recapping the day's events over news footage from Times Square.

"That's right, Dana. When you examine the video closely, the exact moment of the malfunction is clear. Thor hangs his infamous hammer on his belt, the belt sags and almost immediately snaps. The pants rip and are dragged down, exposing his underwear, which happens to be white boxers with little red hearts."

The reporter kept up his narration while the image zoomed in on Thor's shorts.

"Oh, look!" Loki said in an eager tone that Happy knew meant nothing good would follow. "Viewers can comment on the news report. Let's see what they're saying. 'What the god of thunder's got on down under,' followed by a series of laughing yellow faces."

"Emojis," Happy said, tensing for a reaction before the word was all the way out. Thankfully, it looked like they were back to ignoring him.

"Tony," Thor growled.

Happy figured he should probably warn Tony that Thor might be carrying a grudge about that remark.

"That _does_ sound like something he would say. A quote then? That must come later in the broadcast. Look at this one, one of your adoring fans, apparently. Red hearts followed by…emojis with big eyes, followed by a series of random punctuation marks… There's a whole series of comments like this. Do these people you hold in such high regard not know how to write with actual words?"

"I've wondered the same thing," Happy muttered.

"Stop this. Happy, is this on France24, too?"

"Uh…I don't know. Probably. Why?"

"Jane can see France24."

"Jane has an internet connection at that resort, doesn't she? And a smartphone?"

"Yes."

Loki turned around and rolled his eyes, giving Happy a look as though they were in on some private joke. Even with all the crazy things he'd seen today, he thought _that_ just might be the craziest one yet. "The internet is worldwide, you oaf. She could be looking at the exact same thing we are."

Thor visibly cringed; this time when Loki looked his way with that annoying little smirk, Happy realized he was returning it, just a little. He quickly wiped the smile off his face.

"It was private," Thor said, fingering the bottom hem of his shorts. Apparently he only minded being seen in nothing but his skivvies and boots when he was in public. "Between Jane and me. A Valentine's Day gift."

"It _was_ private, yes. Not anymore. But if your beloved is angry with you, Brother, you can simply blame me. That's always worked well for you."

"It works well when it's _true_ , as it is now."

He should have grabbed the phone, Happy chided himself. Grabbed it and stomped on it. Tony and the rest of the Avengers had gathered outside, but Tony had said that since Happy was handling things so well, he should keep at it. Happy had taken it as a compliment, and now wondered if Tony had just been yanking his chain because _Tony_ didn't want to have to deal with these two. He was expecting them to come to blows, or at least start posturing for it again, any second now, but somehow it hadn't happened yet.

"What about the real Meginjord? What did you do with it?"

"You're not pleased with the duplicate I made for you?"

"The one that's in two pieces, through that door?" Thor asked, gesturing angrily. "No, Loki. Where is the real one?"

"Honestly, Thor, you need to learn how to relax. It's here. Or, it _was_ here. I stuck it in the back of your bathroom cabinet, after you'd already moved the rest of your things. I assume it was found at some point and sent to the new Avengers compound. Quite a lovely location, by the way. I can't _wait_ to visit."

Happy looked away, then shuffled an unobtrusive step back. He'd already had this conversation with Thor, the one in which he'd been certain Thor was going to kill him. But he'd called in the middle of the Fijian night, and it was entirely possible that Thor wouldn't even…no. No, Thor definitely remembered. And as it turned out, maybe he and Loki were in this together after all, because Thor looked like he couldn't decide which of them to take his fury out on. No two ways about it – Lady Luck was not on his side today.

"Oh, dear," Loki said, turning a reproachful eye on him.

Happy was certain that if you looked up "oh dear" in the dictionary it would say "a phrase invented to sound stuck-up and condescending," but it had never sounded more so than it did just now, dripping off Loki's lying faking smart aleck lips.

"You don't mean…it _couldn't_ be…Meginjord wasn't on that jet that went down along the shore of Coney Island, was it?"

Smarmy little punk. Happy really wished he could have been there when the Hulk was smashing Loki back and forth into the floor like a rag doll.

The weight of Thor's rage loomed on Happy like a hammer over his head, but just as he was stiffening his spine to bear up under whatever Thor threw his way – thank God the actual hammer had been left behind in the old office suite they'd set up the boxing ring in – he realized it had focused on Loki instead.

"Did you cause that jet to crash?"

Uh-oh. Happy hadn't expected things to turn in _that_ direction. Outside, thunder clapped. Happy checked the weather report every night and every morning. The forecast for tonight was clear skies.

"I was in Fiji, Thor."

Loki's fists, Happy noted, were empty…but they _looked_ like they were tightly grasping something. Invisible knives? Knives that hadn't yet materialized out of wherever he materialized them?

"Did anyone see you?"

"Of course not. Not looking like this, anyway. That was rather the point, if you recall."

"Hey, uh, Thor, listen. Not that I would normally, uh, you know…defend Loki here, but…" – now they _both_ looked like they wanted to kill him – "he didn't have anything to do with that jet going down. Long story, but that was definitely a different bad guy."

"See? Different bad guy. Different villain."

That was quite the smug self-satisfied smile coming from a guy who'd just called himself a villain. But then, Happy thought, maybe he'd meant it in some kind of ironic way.

Because one thing Happy had learned, handling Tony's security all this time, was that villains never thought they were villains.


	11. Thor Part XII, Happy Part XI

.-.

 ** _Megin…Meg…Thor's Magic Belt_**

 **Thor, Part XII**

"Meginjord is no more, then, Happy?" Thor asked quietly, chastened by learning the assumption he'd made so hastily was false.

Happy shook his head. "Sorry, pal. Like I said before, that fire burned extra-hot. No more hanging the old hammer by the belt, huh?"

Thor gave a surprised chuckle. No matter how many times he explained, these mortals never seemed to understand how Mjolnir worked. "I don't need a belt with special strength to hold Mjolnir. Just one that my brother hasn't tampered with to make it snap at the slightest weight."

He looked Loki's way, and for the first time found the tiniest taste of humor in what Loki had pulled off. He wasn't clutching his belly in hysterics, but he felt the smile still pulling at the corners of his lips, and he didn't think he was imagining the slight upward twitch of Loki's.

"Not exactly the work of a villain, is it?" Thor asked, glancing randomly around the cleared-out building as he ambled the few steps over toward Loki and threw an arm around an instantly rigid set of shoulders. "More like the work of a bratty little brother."

Moving as little as possible, Loki reached around and pulled at one of Thor's fingers, dislodging the hand from his shoulder and ducking away to stand opposite him again. "You are sweaty. And disgusting. Put some clothes on, you uncouth churl."

"You had all my clothes put in the laundry, save one old pair of pants that's now ruined. And I worked up a sweat fighting you, Loki. It was a commendable fight, don't you think? Perhaps a better place for the two of us to test our mettle? What do you say we try it again sometime? See where it takes us?"

Loki's face twisted up into one of those unhinged grins…but this one wasn't all that unexpected. Loki may be the one with the richly deserved reputation for scheming, but they'd _both_ grown up with a brother. Loki wasn't the only one who knew just how to push his brother when he wanted to.

"Why wait?" Loki asked, voice dropping low.

"Happy, how quickly can you get the ring reset?"

"Reset? Nothing really needs to be reset."

"Ignore Thor, Happy. He can't help that he's a simpleton incapable of properly expressing even the most basic of notions. The ring doesn't need to be reset. It needs to be replaced."

"Re…placed."

"Replaced," Loki confirmed.

"Replaced," Thor reluctantly agreed with a bracing smile. His choice of "reset" had been quite deliberate, but it was a foolish one. Hiding the condition they'd left those premises in wouldn't be possible.

"As in…"

"Very little remains of it," Loki said.

"And any who visit the floor above us should watch where they step. There are a few holes in the ceiling. And a few other places that are probably unstable."

"Um…okay. No problem. We got one ring brought in, we can get another one. It's just…Tony's got this place under contract, and that contract's based on the condition the building was in at the time of the— You know what? Never mind. You want it set up a couple of floors higher? Fresh floors and ceilings?"

Thor looked to Loki. Stark was like Midgardian royalty. He could afford to fix the damage they inflicted, just like their father had on Asgard, and he would be relieved if that damage was limited to the floors and ceilings of a single deserted building.

Loki gave a careless shrug, or at least one meant to look careless. "This one is fine. Our gear is in there."

Their gear. Which they could easily go pick up and carry to another floor.

Loki was _not_ a villain. Not in his heart. He didn't _want_ to play the villain's role anymore, and he wouldn't, not as long as Thor kept him occupied…not just occupied, but engaged. And fighting – fighting _each other_ – well, it really was the only way they knew how to interact at this point. But maybe, just maybe, if they did it enough, like this, mutual agreement and no threats, no innocent bystanders at risk…maybe coffee would follow. Maybe even a new alliance. Maybe he could even enlist Loki's assistance in carrying out a few harmless pranks on Tony Stark. Ever since that toaster disaster, in particular, Thor had yearned for revenge while lacking the particular skills necessary to obtain it in an appropriate way. He had never thought so hard in his life, trying to make that little machine return his bread to him toasted, and convinced he was succeeding. There were _years_ of pranks to repay Tony for.

"If you're _that_ eager to fight, I suppose I could get the ring mostly back in place through magic."

"I _am_ eager. I will defeat you thoroughly this time, Brother."

"So you admit I defeated you the first time."

"Not at all! Only that I defeated you less thoroughly than I will _this_ time."

"Your delusions of competence will ruin you. Again." Loki turned and tossed the phone to Happy, who managed to catch it after a few bobbles. "Forget the new ring, Happy. But get some clothes delivered to this idiot. It's an unfair distraction to be forced to see him wearing such a ridiculous garment while fighting him."

Thor glanced down at himself, having mostly forgotten his state of undress. "Imagine if Jane hadn't thought to give it to me."

"I'd _really_ rather not, thank you," Loki said with a face like he'd just drunk sour milk.

Loki started toward the door behind which the destroyed boxing ring lay, and Thor hurried to keep up.

"At least a pair of sweatpants, Happy," Thor tossed over his shoulder. "And Loki, I insist that you make the wings on my helmet more accurate."

"I made them perfectly accurate," Loki said, throwing open the door.

"You did not! You made them…tiny. Puny."

"Like I said."

"Loki! You will make them bigger."

"I don't have time for your trifling insecurities. I'll fix the ring and then we'll begin. I still have an appointment to attend to tonight."

Thor's arm shot out to grab Loki's shoulder and spin him around to face him. "What appointment?" he asked, eyes narrowed. His stomach sank with the realization that he might have been imagining joint pranks against Tony Stark while Loki was planning more mayhem.

" _Not_ " – Loki said as he shoved Thor's hand off his shoulder – "that it's any of your concern, but I agreed to give a journalist an interview. I may have…misled her a little about my intentions of following through on that, but she was quite courageous in approaching me, and I've decided to grant her the interview tonight after all. Over dinner, if she's amenable."

"Dinner? As in…a date?"

"The vacuity of your mind never ceases to amaze. An _interview_ , I said. Don't think for a second that I have any interest in following in the footsteps of your mortal dalliances."

"All right. Is this the reporter from…Pensacola?" Tony had said something about her, described her as a "cute blond."

"I believe that's what she said."

"So she's courageous and…cute?"

"Get your headgear on _now_ and know that those feathers are going to stay _exactly_ the wispy, weak little—"

* * *

 **Happy, Part XI**

Happy blinked as the door unexpectedly slammed in his face.

Well. He supposed he wasn't needed anymore.

For the best.

And _definitely_ for the best that those two had decided to stick with the same office suite. Wires dangled from the ceiling, the floor was covered in a thick dust, walls had chunks missing leaving steel beams and more wiring exposed, scorch marks dotted every surface. Happy had imagined a couple of holes in the ceiling. There were holes, all right. At least a dozen of them.

He narrowed his eyes at the thick door now separating him from the bickering brothers, wondering why they cared about setting up another boxing ring at all.

Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, Happy put his back to the doors and started off toward the central lobby, at the same time reaching for the phone that Loki had apparently actually kept his word about.

"How's it going?"

"Hey, Boss. All things considered, peachy. Listen, you got that reporter's name, the one Loki talked to, what was it...Lund?"

"Lind. Hannah Lind. Why?"

"Might want to warn her that Loki's planning to look her up tonight. Little bro's calling it an interview, big bro's calling it a date."

"Huh. Okay. Yeah…huh. You got me on that one. Speechless. Hang on though because I'm going to have some zingers later. Okay. I'll get in touch with her. I would say 'put her immediately into protective custody' but I got the sense she wouldn't go for it. What else?"

"Nothing else. I'm going to get some clothes sent here for Thor, soon as we hang up."

"You're hanging me out to dry here, Happy. Nobody's _ever_ spent that much time around Thor and Loki together when they weren't trying to kill each other. What's it like in there? We're all standing around out here – okay, a few of us took up positions on the roof – and we're scratching our collective head wondering why we haven't been called in to help take Loki down."

Happy sighed and looked back at the closed door. "I don't know. I think…" Loki's got nobody else left and he misses hanging out with his brother. He hadn't been able to say it when he talked to Tony before, and he couldn't bring himself to say it now. He'd been a part of something here. What, exactly, he couldn't quite explain, but something. And what was said between brothers, maybe it was meant to stay between brothers. Between Thor, and Loki, and him. He'd already told Tony all he needed to know. "I think maybe they just needed some time to work things out. You know, in private. And then, who knows? Maybe Loki won't feel the need to take his boredom out on Earth anymore. They're setting up for another round now."

"You think all that's going to take is another round of boxing?"

"Might take a few more. Any way you can delay the closing on this place?"

"It'll cost, but…yeah. Happy, if you hadn't already talked me into promoting you, I'd promote you just for this."

"Thanks, Boss. I better get on those clothes for Thor."

"Get him a whole wardrobe. Throw in something spiffy for Loki's date tonight, too. Oh, oh! I'll pick it out. This'll be fun."

"Don't do that, Tony. I mean it. You do it, I'm not going to give it to him."

"Party pooper. But you know what? Maybe that's why Manhattan's still standing, because it's you in there."

"Maybe so, Boss. Maybe so."

Happy ended the call with his first real smile of the day.

And then Loki and the door came flying right past him.

Loki stood up from the floor, fixed him with a grin that was more determined that homicidal per se, then charged back through the open doorway.

Happy watched a few seconds more, and when nothing more came flying his way, he started thumbing through the imported contacts list for somebody who could deliver a few things for a thunder god to wear, including a new belt.

* * *

 _Notes_

And that does it! Hope you enjoyed it, hope it gave you a few laughs along the way along with the occasional warm fuzzies.

A little extra on the background of this story: As most if not all of you know, Loki has existed in many different versions. He's all over the place in the Marvel comics. Sometimes dastardly and evil, sometimes capricious, sometimes full of pathos and angst. And weirdly enough, sometimes...comically evil? Though not necessarily meant to come off as comical? My fave example is the time Loki turns a bunch of stuff into ice cream. (Such villainy! Be gone, foul fiend!) Here's some dialog from that comic: "The building - all the brick and cement - it's turning into c-candy!" "I don't believe it! There's no such thing as a car made of ice cream!" "The sun is melting my convertible!" "Hey! Stop licking my bicycle! Shoo!" "Priceless! I haven't had this much fun in centuries!" That last is Loki, of course. You see this in fanfics for MCU Loki, too, on occasion, where Loki is "the villain" and attacks frequently...but somehow never seems to actually cause casualties or real damage. That's generally not my cup of tea since I don't find it very realistic and darn it I like realism in my sci-fi/fantasy movie characters based on comic book characters based on mythology characters! But it *was* a fun set-up to play around with a bit, and try to wrap some logic around a Loki who attacks, but whose heart isn't in the attacks themselves.

As noted at the beginning, though, the sole reason this story exists is that (seemingly?) throwaway line in Spiderman: Homecoming about "Megin...Meg...Thor's magic belt." I was driven to come up with "the story" behind that...and this is what I came up with.


End file.
